Five Television Plays (David Mamet) (7 page)

(
Camera follows him and
M
AY,
the dispatcher, into the chief's office.
)

P
RICE:
Oh . . . kaaay . . . get me, please,
also,
the file on Mr. Hopkins’ death. That's carried as what?

M
AY:
Shooting accident.

P
RICE:
Was it?

M
AY:
Far as I know.

P
RICE:
Get me that, aaaand . . . who burnt down that building?

M
AY:
. . .
I
don't know.

P
RICE:
Who do you think? (
Pause.
) Who benefited from it?

M
AY:
Mrs. Amos owns the store.

P
RICE:
She stand to gain?

M
AY:
No
.
People up the Mall, another clothing store, the
downstate
folks. The Developers.

P
RICE:
That Mob Money . . . ?

M
AY:
I think it is . . .

P
RICE:
Un-huh. (
Pause.
) I'm gonna get out on the
street
today. I wanna meet you back here, four o'clock, let's go over the sheets. (
He turns back to look at the plaques.
) Get this stuff off the wall, box it and store
it,
please, have the wall repainted. All of that, the time I
get
back this afternoon, would you, please?

M
AY:
Yessir.

P
RICE:
Meeting here in three minutes.

M
AY:
They heard it. How do you like your coffee . . . ?

P
RICE:
Hot, black, straight up.

M
AY:
Any brand?

P
RICE:
Just so it don't run out.

(
She nods, goes out of the door. Beat.
P
RICE
puts his briefcase up on the desk. Takes out his service revolver and holster, straps them on, takes off his jacket and hangs it over the back of his chair. Sits down. Picks up his badge off the desk.
)

(
Angle point of view insert: The badge, Bradford Chief of Police.
)

(
Angle:
P
RICE
holding the badge. He puts it in his shirt pocket. Puts on eyeglasses. Takes out a file from his briefcase, goes to work on the file.
)

O
FFICER
(
voice over
): You ready, Chief . . . ?

(P
RICE
keeps writing, does not look up.
)

P
RICE:
Yes, tell them to come in.

EXTERIOR: BURNT BUILDING.

The building is being cordoned off with “Police Line” tapes.
P
RICE
looking on. Continues down the street and into the firehouse. A fireman is polishing the engine.
P
RICE
walks over to him.

P
RICE:
Morning.

F
IREMAN:
Morning.

P
RICE:
John Price.

F
IREMAN:
Yep. I know. Jerry Bates. Glad to meet you.

P
RICE:
Whaddaya got on those buildings?

(F
IREMAN
moves back into the ready room,
P
RICE
and camera follow.
)

F
IREMAN:
Too early to tell, we get the report.

P
RICE:
What's it look like?

F
IREMAN:
Could go either way, way it spread. Not an
expert,
but it could go either way. The flame pattern, electrical fire, or could be arson.

P
RICE:
Uh-huh . . .

F
IREMAN:
Wouldn't want to swear to it.

P
RICE:
Hmm-mmm.

(
They walk around the fire engine.
P
RICE
refers to a deer head on the wall.
)

You take that buck?

F
IREMAN:
Son, Billy. Trophy buck.

P
RICE:
Some animal.

F
IREMAN:
Yup. One shot. 30-06, two hundred yards, paced it off.

P
RICE:
Good shooting.

F
IREMAN:
. . . say it was.

(
The
F
IREMAN
walks
P
RICE
to the front of the firehouse and out onto the apron. There is
B
ILLY
about to get into his car, parked next to the firehouse.
)

P
RICE:
Well, I've got a few calls to make. Good meeting you, Jerry.

F
IREMAN:
Billy. Billy come over here.

(
The young man walks over.
)

This is Chief Price, new Chief.

P
RICE:
We met over the Station House.

F
IREMAN:
Billy's going into Law Enforcement.

P
RICE:
Are you?

F
IREMAN:
You bet he is. Starting
when
. . . ?

B
ILLY:
. . . tomorrow.

P
RICE:
Really . . .

F
IREMAN:
Yep. Goes into the Air Force. Signed up for Air Police. Billy, Billy, uh, Billy was very close to the Chief, to Charley Hopkins . . . it was the chief that influenced him to go into the law.

B
ILLY:
That's right.

P
RICE:
You going to make it a career?

B
ILLY:
Yes, sir, I am.

P
RICE:
Well, you picked a good one. Could you point me toward . . . (
consults book
) the Old Town Road . . . ?

F
IREMAN:
You go . . . you go, uh . . . tell you the
quick
way, but you'll never
find
it. Billy!

B
ILLY:
Yessir?

F
IREMAN:
You want to ride with Chief Price here, show him the Newman's Place, .the Old Town Road.

B
ILLY:
Yessir,
glad to.

P
RICE:
Not necessary.

F
IREMAN:
It's a treat for the boy . . . you take him out there now.

P
RICE:
Well, thank you, I appreciate it.

(B
ILLY
and
P
RICE
start across the street. A
T
OWNSMAN
comes over to them.
)

T
OWNSMAN:
Heard you read out Bobby Barnes this morning.

P
RICE:
Word travels fast, eh?

T
OWNSMAN:
Mister, it's a small town.

INTERIOR: POLICE CAR. DAY.

P
RICE
driving,
B
ILLY
riding.

P
RICE:
You spent some time with the Chief?

B
ILLY:
Quite a bit, Sir.

P
RICE:
Un-huh.

B
ILLY:
He was my Hunting Safety instructor . . . and, you know, I spent a lot of time around the station house.

P
RICE:
Always wanted to go into the law?

B
ILLY:
Yes, Sir, I did.

P
RICE:
’One have any reason hereabouts to do him harm? (
Pause.
)

B
ILLY:
I . . . no, sir. No one I can think of. Why do you ask?

P
RICE:
. . . fellow asked me a question. Stuck in my mind. What do you think about the
Arson,
Main Street?

B
ILLY
(
thinks
): No, you mean “Who"? I . . . the book says,
Arson,
many times, the crime of a disturbed adolescent.

(P
RICE
laughs.
)

P
RICE:
You've been doing your
homework.

B
ILLY
(
shrugs
)
: . . .
other motives, of course, including revenge, and, of course, personal gain, either through collection of insurance, or elimination of a competing commercial concern.

P
RICE:
Son, how old are you?

B
ILLY:
Nineteen years, sir . . .

P
RICE:
You want to think seriously about joining on
this
force, instead of going in the Air Police, you come by, we'll talk.

B
ILLY:
I, well, Sir, you know.

P
RICE:
It's okay, just a thought. We all need allies.

(
The car stops at a rural farmhouse. Camera follows the two out of the car.
)

P
RICE:
You can come along, you want. What we got here, a complaint. Mr. Newman, it would seem, ‘s being accused tearing down the “No Trespassing—No Hunting” signs, his neighbor's . . . Mr. Kiernan's place. What's that mean “accused"?

B
ILLY:
Means he was doing it.

P
RICE:
Why?

B
ILLY:
Um, didn't like, folks come up, the summer folks, change the way folks live.

P
RICE:
Uh-huh.

B
ILLY:
His folks been hunting on that land a long time, now man comes and posts it. (
Pause.
)

P
RICE:
That's the way a hunter would think.

B
ILLY:
Yessir.

P
RICE:
Uh huh. Your dad showed me, that's some trophy buck you took last year. Some shooting.

(
Camera follows them to the porch of the house.
)

B
ILLY:
A lucky shot.

P
RICE:
You going out this year?

B
ILLY
: Already been. Didn't get nothing.

P
RICE:
Already been. You telling me? Season don't start until next week.

B
ILLY:
Went out in the
bow
season.

P
RICE:
You went out with a bow this year?

B
ILLY:
Yes. I, I, you know, I thought it was more
sporting.

P
RICE:
Well it is
that . . .
(
Knocks on the door.
) Get anything?

(A M
AN
answers the door. A lumberjack-looking individual around forty.
)

M
AN:
Yep?

P
RICE:
Name's John Price. I'm the new Chief of Police.

M
AN:
What do you want?

P
RICE:
Came out to get acquainted.

M
AN:
The summer people up the road called you in. They don't like “this” and don't like “that.” I'm tearing down their signs, that's it, isn't it?

P
RICE:
. . . that's it, but I wouldn't worry about it.

M
AN:
. . . seems to me
quite
a waste of my tax money, send a man out, let alone the Chief of Police, fellow got himself a little piece
of paper
torn down off a tree.

P
RICE:
Couldn't agree more. (
Pause.
)

M
AN:
I can't say that I get you.

P
RICE:
Come over to
say,
that I couldn't agree more. Fellow lives here, what they live here, two, three months a year?

M
AN:
If that.

P
RICE:
A man
might
think, now, this is off the
record
here . . .

M
AN:
. . . I'm with you.

P
RICE:
. . . business do
they
have, tell someone like
you,
family's lived here, what?

M
AN:
Family's been on this land for two hundred years.

P
RICE:
. . . keep off a piece of land your
daddy
prolly hunted on . . .

M
AN:
. . . granddaddy, too.

P
RICE:
. . . land that they
surely
wouldn't
know
someone was on, as they don't get
back
there, what?

M
AN:
Once a year, once a year if that . . .

P
RICE:
They'd never know, someone was going
back
there . . .

M
AN:
. . . well, that is the Lord's Truth . . .

P
RICE:
. . . unless someone was tearing down the signs. (
Pause.
)

M
AN:
What did you say your name was . . . ?

(B
ILLY
has wandered back to the car and is holding the handset.
)

B
ILLY:
Mr. Price . . . ?

P
RICE
(
to
M
AN):
Excuse me . . . (P
RICE
goes over to the car, talks on the radio.
) Chief Price, go.

D
ISPATCHER
(
voice over on the radio
): We have a three-car accident, the Interstate four and one half miles
north
of the Junction. Multiple fatalities. Medical and State Police responding.

P
RICE:
We're on our way. (
He gets into the car. To
B
ILLY:)
Buckle it up tight.

EXTERIOR: ROADSIDE. INTERSTATE. DAY.

A car wreck, paramedics, police cruisers.
P
RICE’S
car pulls up.
P
RICE
gets out, followed by
B
ILLY.
Walks over to a
T
ROOPER.
As he walks over, he puts his shield on his jacket pocket.